Ailsa Abraham's Blog: Ailsa Abraham, page 9
May 31, 2017
BACK FOR A LIMITED TIME
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You thought you had lost it but Shaman’s Drum is back on the market for six moths only. From 1st June it will be available in Kindle form for only 99p or cents as a special re-introductory offer.
WHAT? A mixed genre book which can be read as a stand-alone or as the sequel to Alchemy. It has variously been described as slightly futuristic magical realism, fantasy and romantic thriller.
WHEN? Set in our own word in just a few years’ time after a world-changing scientific discovery frees mankind from dependence on fossil fuels.
WHY? The banning of public religious practices was thought to bring an end to terrorism and war but unexpected consequences turn the new ideal world into a nightmare. Pagans having been left out of the ban are the only groups left to combat the new threat and they are fighting between themselves.
WHERE? The Capital is never named so it could be in your country.
WHO? Iamo, a priest of the Goddess with an aristocratic background who has just been released from prison for breaking his vow of chastity. A woman Black Shaman avenger who was the cause of Iamo’s downfall, rescued from her prison by her lover.
Between them they have to solve the mystery of who is allowing demons into the world of Men and find a way to stop them. Who can they trust in the chaotic world of pagan clans?
Ailsa Abraham[image error]
The author, Ailsa Abraham, knows her subject having been a student of religions and a practising pagan most of her life. Friend of Druids, Hedge-witches and other assorted magic-users she is the village shaman in her home.
https://www.facebook.com/AilsaAbrahamAuthor
http://www.crookedcatbooks.com/ailsa-abraham/
Reviews on Amazon number 15 at the moment with an average rating of 4.7 Comments include : Shaman’s Drum sucked me in and swallowed me whole!
Unique, ingenious and well crafted
Just the right mix of danger, mystery, history, a possible future, and tastefully exciting romance,.I want more of Iamo and Riga. I just want more! 
May 22, 2017
Would smell as ……
I’m an international criminal in France. Changing first names is not allowed except in very strict circumstances so if you are born James Poobum, you stay James Poobum until you die. That’s why we are so iffy about first names being recognisable. There is a list in the Town Hall so forget about calling your child Sky, Cloud, Rainbow or Manchester United.
Even if the parents are foreign and want to call their child by a name traditional to their original country, their embassy will be contacted to check it out. My Welsh friend had a near fist-fight to get her daughter called Sîan. Someone at the town hall got mixed up with Sean, thought of 007 and banned it as being a boy’s name. The British Embassy sorted it out.
[image error]As many of you may know, Ailsa is a Scottish Gallic name. It is unpronounceable by most English people so from landing in France I changed it to Elise as being much easier for all concerned. When I changed nationalities, it was politely “suggested” that I adopt a French name. No problem, everyone knew me as Elise anyway!
However, like the eejit I am, I forgot to change all my documents. My ID card, which is the law on this, reads “Elise [image error]Lawton, married to Abraham” (yes, we keep our maiden names officially too) while other things like my bank card still read Ailsa, as does my Health Service card.
Oh dear. When I was rushed to Besançon dying of heart failure, I became two people. The staff got quite cross with me and wanted to know my REAL first name. The answer “both” didn’t please them so I am now going through the palaver of dealing with admin and getting everything except my British passport as ”Elise”.
The one I was dreading was my driving licence because those people are known to be the most difficult administrators in the land of the impossible civil servant. I trotted up to the local Town Hall to see if there were a specific form I could fill in and take to the Prefecture. My pal Andrée pointed out that my driving licence is also in “Elise” – she knows because she helped me fill in the forms and took the photos when I lost the damn thing and had to have it replaced. I believe it was Andrée who said that it would be easier to have my ID and licence matching.
I ran around the counter and kissed her. It’s good to have a good pal in the Mairie. The bank have agreed to play ball so now I just have to arm-wrestle the Health Service. They ought to be relieved if they ask the hospital.
It’s only my friends on FB who will need convincing.
In real life, only my mother’s family still call me Ailsa, even Badger knows me as Elise – this could take some convincing.
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May 17, 2017
Don’t Hang About
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Our lovely publishers, Crooked Cat, are launching a new mystery today. It is The Hanging Murders by Rex Carothers. It sounds a fascinating thriller and I grabbed a copy straight away. Here is the blurb….
Between 1932 and 1942, five unidentified white males between 25 and 45 were murdered in gruesome circumstances known as the Hanging Murders. At the time, during the Depression, many men wandered the country looking for work, food, and a new beginning. No one missed them.
Their murders were never solved. They became cold cases – until now, 1957.
When a man is found hanging upside down, cut up like butcher’s meat in a slaughterhouse, Jim Cobb, Sheriff of Inyo County, begins to investigate. What follows is a gruesome, dark journey into the heart of America.
The Hanging Murderer has returned. I love cold cases, am addicted to them on TV. It’s not going to help that the current sherrif is a hopeless drunk who has let his life slide following personal grief.
Here is the International Amazon link which will take you to wherever you are in the world (I make life easy for you, don’t I?)
Find Rex Carothers on Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/rex.carothers?fref=ufi
or Twitter – https://twitter.com/RexCarothers
May 9, 2017
THE OTHER SIDE BY KAYLOR WARD
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Genre: Contemporary Fiction
(Jodi Picoult meets Clare Makintosh)
Release Date: 14th May 2017
Publisher: Parker Press Publishing
Lauren is locked in a cell. She knows she shouldn’t be there.
When Lauren and Rick are left an allotment they embark on a lifestyle change that is supposed to bring their step-family closer together. They embrace the chance for a slice of the good life, fresh air and family times together. Lauren and Rick are in love and happy but sometimes their past issues surface. For Lauren it’s the affair that her first husband had before he left her. For Rick it’s the children he was alienated from and forced to leave behind seven years ago.
One day a new family move into a cottage behind the allotment. That day changes everything. That day they start falling apart.
Praise for The Other Side
‘A wonderful new voice in cross-genre women’s fiction that will keep you spellbound’ Best-selling author, Catrin Collier
‘A thoroughly enjoyable, bittersweet read’ Helen Carey
EXTRACT
Prologue
The door shut with a cold, hard slam sending harsh metallic echoes around her. Her eyes shot warily from left to right as she raked her fingers through her hair and tried to make sense of her situation. She was in a cell. She had asked them not to lock her in, but they hadn’t paid her any attention. Where there had been a face a few seconds ago, there was now a slammed metal door with peeling grey paint showing the cracking blue paint beneath. She hated confined spaces. They told her there was a buzzer if she needed anything. Needed anything?
Panic welled in her chest, her throat and her brain as the grey walls and the naked single white light closed around her. Breathe…breathe…slow…down… This was not the place for a panic attack. Not here, not today. She was alone. She had to get through this. Focus…focus… Think yourself somewhere else.
She thought of her daughters, their smiles and their joy. She lay on the hard thin plastic mattress on the concrete bed, and pulled a thin blue blanket over her head to block out the light, to block out the room, and to block out now.
BUY LINKS
ABOUT KAYLOR WARD
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Kaylor Ward, originally from London, now lives in South Wales. She worked for many years as a management consultant and trainer, writing part-time until her first book was published under the name, Michaela Weaver (Manic Mondays). She has studied creative writing at Masters level, and in addition to her writing she is a qualified Writing Coach. Michaela is a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, and a reader for their New Writers’ Scheme. Michaela writes cross genre contemporary fiction with psychological twists often about the darker side of family and domestic life.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kaylorward
Twitter: @kaylorward
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16812960.Kaylor_Ward?from_search=true
Website: www.kaylorward.com
GIVEAWAY
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PRIZES
Kindle Fire!
Lolita Wine Glass from Jack’s wine bar
Bottle of vino from Jack’s
Scarf from Puffin Island
JUST FOLLOW THE LINK TO ENTER THE COMP!
http://kaylorward.com/index.php/kaylors-sign-up-contest/
AND, AS IF THAT WASN’T ENOUGH………….There’s a free 6 week novel writing course for everyone run by Kaylor Ward herself! Here’s the link to access it!
http://kaylorward.com/index.php/free-course-lp/
May 8, 2017
FIND ME AT WILLOUGHBY CLOSE BY KATE HEWITT
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Genre: Women’s Fiction
Release Date: 14/03/2017
Series – Willoughby Close #3 (can be read as a standalone)
Welcome to Willoughby Close… a charming cluster of cozy cottages, each with a story to tell and a happy ending to deliver…
Harriet Lang had the perfect life, so she’s left reeling when everything is taken from her in one fell swoop. Suddenly, Harriet learns her beautiful farmhouse in the Cotswolds is double-mortgaged, her husband Richard’s been unceremoniously fired—and he’s become a little too close to his young, sexy assistant.
Harriet moves into Willoughby Close with her three children, trying to hold her head up high. With the help of her neighbor and newfound friend Ellie Matthews, Harriet starts to rebuild her life–but dipping a toe in the dating pool feels strange and meanwhile her children are struggling in different ways. She wonders if starting over is really possible…
Then Willoughby Close begins to weave its healing magic on both her and her children, and Harriet begins to see a way forward. She even starts to date sexy local vet Tom Roberts–but when Richard reappears in her life, wanting to make amends, Harriet must make the painful decision about how much of the past can be forgiven—and what kind of future she is fighting for.
EXTRACT
“Come on,” Harriet said now, as she climbed resolutely out of the car and gave them all as cheerful a smile as she could. “Let’s check it out.”
The movers had already come; Harriet had marked what furniture to take from their house to Willoughby Close, and it had been a depressingly small amount. The big, bespoke kitchen table wouldn’t fit, and the huge dresser with all the pottery she’d collected over the years wouldn’t either. In fact, at least two-thirds of their furniture was going into storage, which was expensive, but Harriet couldn’t bear to lose all of it along with the house. They’d need it when Richard got his job, and they bought something bigger.
She’d spent hours and hours, weeks and months, selecting all the furniture for the house, with the help of the expensive interior decorator who had more or less held her hand through the entire process. She’d bought tasteful antiques interspersed with fresh modern pieces, carpets and kilims from various holidays, watercolors and oil paintings of places that were meaningful to them. Sophie had once said, with admiration that bordered on envy, that Harriet’s house could be featured in Country Life.
And so it would again. This was a blip, damn it. Things were going to get better. Richard was going to find a job, he’d said so, and they’d get back their house or buy an even better house, and she’d live there without him, happy and defiant. Or something like that. She couldn’t picture specifics yet, but she couldn’t stand the thought of the rest of her life looking like… this.
The children trooped silently behind her as she fumbled with the keys and then opened the door to number two. The smell of fresh paint and emptiness hit her like a smack in the face. It was the smell of fresh starts, and she didn’t want one.
She stepped inside, reaching for the lights. Although it was only four in the afternoon it was already getting dark, the skies heavy and low with gray clouds. Spring felt a long way off, despite the fact that it was mid-February, and the spattering of snowdrops interspersed with an early crocus or two that she’d seen on the drive in.
“This is it?” Mallory’s voice rang through the empty space, scornful and incredulous. William kicked at the skirting board, scuffing the pristine white paint. Chloe stuck her thumb in her mouth.
“Yes, this is it,” Harriet said, trying to pitch her tone somewhere between firm and bright. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”
BUY LINKS
ABOUT KATE HEWITT
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Kate Hewitt is the author of over 65 novels of women’s fiction and romance. Whichever the genre, she loves telling a compelling and emotional story. An American ex-pat and former New Yorker, she now lives in a small market town in Wales with her husband and five children. You can learn more about her books and life at http://www.kate-hewitt.com .
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KateHewittAuthor
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/katehewitt1
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1269244.Kate_Hewitt
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/katehewitt1/
Blog: http://www.acumbrianlife.blogspot.co.uk
Website: http://www.kate-hewitt.com
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GIVEAWAY
1 st Prize – £10 Amazon Gift Card
2 nd Prize – a print copy of MEET ME AT WILLOUGHBY CLOSE (book 1)
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GIVEAWAY OPEN INTERNATIONALLY
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/4be03017232/?
May 7, 2017
Anita Dawes – Scarlet Ribbons
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Crossing the English Channel on the magic carpet was one of the best journeys of my life, everyone should travel this way! I usually suffer from motion sickness in most modes of transport, but not this time. It was like being in a dream, and I found myself flying over France in no time at all.
Ailsa was standing on the doorstep of Bingergread Cottage, waiting for me with a cat in her arms and a sweet little dog at her feet. The weather was gloriously warm and sunny, so we decide to sit outside in the fresh air to talk.
As this was a ‘meet and greet’, I was prepared for all sorts of questions, like why I had become a writer, so I was surprised when all Ailsa said, was “Tell me who you are…”
This threw me completely off guard, and I found myself thinking, just who am I?
Sometimes I think I’m like a sponge, sucking up everything, then throwing it back out as something new. Mostly, I live inside my head, watching people go past my window. I give them all new identities, new lives, and then I write about them.
I wrote Scarlet Ribbons at a time when I was obsessed with where the mind goes when it retreats from our world. I imagine it must be like dreaming, but a dream you cannot come back from. And I love the song Scarlet Ribbons. I usually have a song in my head when I write, for it seems to help the process somehow. The lyrics create the characters, and before I know it, they are busy writing the story for me.
At 71, I’m still searching for the Holy Grail, that special something that will explain so much and make everything clearer. I love the unknown and the mysterious. I collect stones and rocks and love dark, rugged places. I often know things I shouldn’t, and my kids call me a witch.
(Don’t we have a lot in common, Anita? AA)
***
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Scarlet Ribbons
Maggie is a typically happy, self-centred and complacent woman. She thinks she has a perfect life, a devoted husband and a lovely home.
She has no idea that fate has other plans for her. And when a car loses control and mows her down, leaving her in a coma, her life changes dramatically in an instant and she finds herself in another world.
A world where she rescues a sad neglected and abused child from a violent situation, but when it looks as though she will wake up in her own world, she has to find a way to bring the child back with her.
Is this other world real, or was she only dreaming, locked in the prison of her coma?
If it is real, can she save this child?
Excerpt from Scarlet Ribbons
I could still hear June talking, her voice just a whisper somewhere in the back of my mind like an angry bee. Somehow I knew it was a lifeline. As long as I could still hear her, I wouldn’t lose contact with the real world, my world.
I wanted to pull myself back to hear what she was saying, but there was something more urgent pulling me forward, past the darkness, towards strange streets and houses I’d never seen before. The kind of streets you wouldn’t want to live in.
Except for timely reminders on the television news, it would be easy to believe they didn’t exist anymore. No graffiti-laden walls and children playing among the rubbish but I could smell the dirt and decay. It didn’t seem to bother them; they played happily around the broken furniture. Water-stained mattresses became springboards for some imaginary game.
Why was I being shown these poverty stricken urchins with clothes that hardly covered their bodies, covered in dirt that looked as if it had been baked on their skins for months?
It was like watching a slow moving film. The houses looked old, worn and neglected; as if no one cared anymore about the way they lived. I’d seen enough. Let me go back to the hospital. Leave me alone. I don’t believe any of this, it’s not real.
I felt my body being shaken, the way I’d seen mothers do, to make sure the child knew the seriousness of whatever they’d done wrong.
As I continued along the street, I could hear people talking inside their homes; mostly conversations of despair. They looked as worn and beaten as the houses they lived in. I was beginning to feel like a peeping tom. I tried to concentrate on June’s voice, wishing I could turn the volume up, but it was no use. She remained a tiny buzzing sound at the back of my mind.
I was being forced to spy on these people and kept asking myself why what was I supposed to see?
That’s when I heard raised voices, a man’s voice, hard and cruel without emotion, and a woman is crying. I could see a small face in an upstairs window pressed against the dirty glass; the face of a girl no more than eight or nine, with dark curly hair and huge fearful brown eyes. Her tears had left white tram lines through the dirt on her face.
She appeared to be looking straight at me, and for a moment there was a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach as I wondered if she could really see me. Why wasn’t she playing outside with all the other children?
The row coming from the rooms below was changing. The woman had stopped crying and was screaming back at a rather large, flabby man in a dirty, ragged vest that might have been white once. His stomach hung over the top of trousers that were held up by a black leather belt he was in the process of unbuckling. Yelling at the woman to shut her mouth or he’d let her have it.
She continued to scream at him, and I heard my own voice shouting at her to be quiet. I could feel the breeze that pulled the torn curtains half way across the open window, blocking the man from my view. I heard the slap of leather against skin and the woman fell to her knees.
Her scream filled my head with anger, and for a moment she was quiet, her hands covering her face to stop the belt from leaving its mark there. Red welts were appearing on her bare arms.
Neighbours stood on their doorsteps, listening, doing nothing.
I wanted to go back to the hospital but was forced to stand and listen to the sound of leather striking skin. I wanted to scream at the neighbours to help, but I was without a voice in this world. Yet, in my own world I know I’d have hidden away from the troubles of others, needing only Jack. Why now did I feel the need to interfere?
I looked up at the small window above the front door, at the child’s face. Eyes so dark, filled with such sadness. I wanted more than anything to hold her, to wipe the tears from her eyes. To tell her she would never again have to shed tears of sorrow, only joy.
But this was no fairy tale, no happy ending to be so easily written. This was really happening. The pain so visible on the child’s face came from somewhere deeper than the sounds of a mother’s anguish. The child was being tormented too.
I felt the pain and shame of it, almost as if it were my own. Could I help her? If so tell me how I heard myself scream at the darkness.
But no answer came.[image error]
Our Blog: http://www.jenanita01.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/anita.dawes37
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jaydawes2/media
Amazon Author Page: Author.to/AnitaLink
Scarlet Ribbons: myBook.to/SRIBS
May 5, 2017
The BLOOD DETECTIVE BY DAN WADDELL
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Genre: Crime
Release Date: 28/02/2017
Nominated for the CWA New Blood Dagger in the UK and Macavity First Book award in the USA, and winner of the Prix Cezam Littéraire.
As dawn breaks over London, the body of a young man is discovered in a Notting Hill churchyard. The killer has left DCI Grant Foster and his team a grisly, cryptic clue. It’s not until the clue is handed to Nigel Barnes, a specialist in compiling family trees, that the full message becomes spine-chillingly clear. It leads Barnes back more than one hundred years – to the victim of a demented Victorian serial killer. When a second body is discovered Foster needs Barnes’s skills more than ever. The murderer’s clues appear to run along the tangled bloodlines that lie between 1879 and now. And if Barnes is right, the killing spree has only just begun . . .
The Blood Detective is a haunting crime novel of blood-stained family histories and gruesome secrets.
‘Expertly plotted and with great attention to detail, this is the start of a series that has already put down substantial roots of its own’ – Mark Billingham.
‘A fascinating and original investigation into the dark roots of our family trees’ – Val McDermid
‘There’s panache aplenty in this intriguing tale. Sharp plotting, elegant writing, engaging characters, a cracking climax. A series is promised. Bring it on!’ Reginald Hill
BUY LINKS
[image error]This image is copyright Suzanne Plunkett 2016©.
For photographic enquiries please call Suzanne Plunkett or email suzanne@suzannelunkett.com
This image is copyright Suzanne Plunkett 2016©.
This image has been supplied by Suzanne Plunkett and must be credited Suzanne Plunkett. The author is asserting his full Moral rights in relation to the publication of this image. All rights reserved. Rights for onward transmission of any image or file is not granted or implied. Changing or deleting Copyright information is illegal as specified in the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988. If you are in any way unsure of your right to publish this image please contact Suzanne Plunkett on +44(0)7990562378 or email suzanne@suzanneplunkett.com
ABOUT DAN WADDELL
Dan Waddell is the award-winning author of more than 20 works of fiction and non-fiction, among them the bestselling book which accompanied the BBC TV series Who Do You Think You Are? His first crime novel, the critically-acclaimed The Blood Detective, won the prestigious Prix Cezam Littéraire in France and was nominated for debut awards in the UK and USA. He lives in London with his family.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Dan-Waddell-26697085916/?ref=bookmarks
Twitter: https://twitter.com/danwaddell
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/646165.Dan_Waddell
Website: www.danwaddell.net
GIVEAWAY
An ecopy of the book!
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/4be03017229/?
The BLOOD DETECTIVE BY DAN WADDEL
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Genre: Crime
Release Date: 28/02/2017
Nominated for the CWA New Blood Dagger in the UK and Macavity First Book award in the USA, and winner of the Prix Cezam Littéraire.
As dawn breaks over London, the body of a young man is discovered in a Notting Hill churchyard. The killer has left DCI Grant Foster and his team a grisly, cryptic clue. It’s not until the clue is handed to Nigel Barnes, a specialist in compiling family trees, that the full message becomes spine-chillingly clear. It leads Barnes back more than one hundred years – to the victim of a demented Victorian serial killer. When a second body is discovered Foster needs Barnes’s skills more than ever. The murderer’s clues appear to run along the tangled bloodlines that lie between 1879 and now. And if Barnes is right, the killing spree has only just begun . . .
The Blood Detective is a haunting crime novel of blood-stained family histories and gruesome secrets.
‘Expertly plotted and with great attention to detail, this is the start of a series that has already put down substantial roots of its own’ – Mark Billingham.
‘A fascinating and original investigation into the dark roots of our family trees’ – Val McDermid
‘There’s panache aplenty in this intriguing tale. Sharp plotting, elegant writing, engaging characters, a cracking climax. A series is promised. Bring it on!’ Reginald Hill
BUY LINKS
[image error]This image is copyright Suzanne Plunkett 2016©.
For photographic enquiries please call Suzanne Plunkett or email suzanne@suzannelunkett.com
This image is copyright Suzanne Plunkett 2016©.
This image has been supplied by Suzanne Plunkett and must be credited Suzanne Plunkett. The author is asserting his full Moral rights in relation to the publication of this image. All rights reserved. Rights for onward transmission of any image or file is not granted or implied. Changing or deleting Copyright information is illegal as specified in the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988. If you are in any way unsure of your right to publish this image please contact Suzanne Plunkett on +44(0)7990562378 or email suzanne@suzanneplunkett.com
ABOUT DAN WADDELL
Dan Waddell is the award-winning author of more than 20 works of fiction and non-fiction, among them the bestselling book which accompanied the BBC TV series Who Do You Think You Are? His first crime novel, the critically-acclaimed The Blood Detective, won the prestigious Prix Cezam Littéraire in France and was nominated for debut awards in the UK and USA. He lives in London with his family.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Dan-Waddell-26697085916/?ref=bookmarks
Twitter: https://twitter.com/danwaddell
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/646165.Dan_Waddell
Website: www.danwaddell.net
GIVEAWAY
An ecopy of the book!
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/4be03017229/?
April 20, 2017
News from home
I’m writing this by way of re-assurance as some of my on-line friends are worrying about me. Please don’t – I never do.
What happened? Well I had a cardiac “incident” which was a bit sudden and scary. I ended up in hospital in Besançon for five and my heart stopped seven times but they used the “stand clear” electric doofus to start it again which hurt like hell.
I now have atrial fibrillation which means my heartbeat is irregular and I have to rest a lot. Rest? I haven’t been this quiet since my three-week coma! Never mind, there is a cure. On 1st May I am going back to the same cardiac unit to have electrodes passed up my femoral artery and into my heart to do a major “jump-start” on it which should kill the fibrillation. My darling GP described it as me driving a car with every spark plug buggered. They need changing and this will do it.
I’ll have to lie still for twelve hours to allow the entry to my artery to heal but should be sent home the next day. After that, apparently, I should be able to get back to my normal gadding-about self.
Before that, I have a mammography tomorrow (tits through the mangle) and on the 25th I have a chest scan (back to Besançon) for which I have booked my taxi.
Obviously it will take me a day or so to get over being in hospital again (it always does) but by the end of the first week in May I should be fine.
Being almost totally bed-bound has been weird for someone who spends so much time outdoors. I’ve become an expert on day-time TV and nearly addicted to NCIS. This will all change soon enough and the weather should be better when I am home again.
So – I don’t want cards sent although huge thanks to everyone who has sent them so far. I would like you to send kind thoughts, prayers, healing vibes or whatever you believe in because I feel them. Knowing that you are all thinking of me is like a warm blanket wrapped around me and makes me feel much better.
Above all – DO NOT WORRY. It’s only my heart joining the same Trades Union as my brain and deciding it is 80 years old! Nanny is fine for a woman of her age!
Bless you all and thanks for caring xxxx [image error]
April 19, 2017
Ailsa Abraham
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